Insert Hordes Of Magnificent Bastards Here
by Crazyloon99
Summary: ACMSES Fic. The enigmatic Thursday Night Risk Club is revealed when a Stu has been discovered to have infiltrated it. A small group of agents attend a meeting in an attempt to apprehend him before the Club finds out... and chaos, of course, ensues.
1. Chapter One: Contingency Plan

Welcome to the Thursday Night Risk Club! I hope you'll like it :D

This fic takes place ***BEFORE*** Complicated Plot Twist, because thar be a Nixie. Okay? Good.

Insert usual legally worthless spiel about ownership, and how I do not, etc. The TNRC is something I've come up with, but I can't lay claim to it by its nature, and anyway I don't want to! XD If you want I can post the entire list of members and their guests. On this note, be warned this fic is very much a 'how MY mileage varies', and since I can only write one mileage at a time…don't complain.

Oh and if you're in the mood for watching a good Let's Play, try _I Wanna Be The Guy_. Then you'll see why we're SO not going there.

Addendum: This is being posted on CrazyLoon's account for personal reasons – Aliso.

* * *

**Chapter One: Contingency Plan**

OoOoOoOoO

The Librarian sauntered towards the Monitor Room on his usual stroll round the collection of bookshelf-lined corridors and archives that he called home. The Monitor Room had once been little more than a small viewing screen and a few keyboards; it was one of the main rooms of the Library now that he'd had that moment of weakness and allowed this bunch of noisy, funny, glompy and bickering kids to use this hallowed ground as a headquarters for their bonkers idea of taking on some of the most dangerous individuals in the entire Multiverse.

Well. That may be true, but right now he wouldn't change it for anything. They were brave, this lot, braver and frankly stronger than he could ever have anticipated. They had bounced back from any and all obstacles thus far and had had some marvellous successes. It was nice to hear the Library ring with their voices daily; there was always something different to do, new things to eat, new ideas for sweetie-protecting booby-traps to test out.

That, and he was confident that there were some secrets that would never have a need to be revealed.

He pushed open the door, and witnessed the scene. There were four people within at the moment: Tash and Louise, who were both on Monitor Duty, watching the fifteen-or-so screens that switched periodically through different fandoms; and Alice and Robert, the former of which was showing the latter, now a rookie agent, how the room worked and its purpose.

"Hello guys," the Librarian greeted.

Tash smiled at him; Louise was so intent at studying a particular fandom that she missed his entrance; Robert nodded politely. Alice did her by-now-customary salutation and dove for his waist.

"Oof! Ow. Thank you Alice, nice to see you too…"

Adrian peeled the woman off his ribs, and went to sit next to Tash. "Anything of interest?"

"Most things are quiet."

As if on a sarcastic cue, a small alarm sounded, and several screens coalesced into one, showing a kind of challenging side-on video-game labyrinth world. Louise and Tash shot into action.

"We've detected – it's a Level Seven Stu!"

"What's the fandom?" asked Adrian, all business.

"_I Wanna Be The Guy_!"

He was incredulously silent. "…Right. Okay," he began.

"It's Blacklisted – " Louise gabbled.

"Adrian, we should – Adrian?" Tash swivelled and stared at him.

"Five, four, three, two…aaaaa-one. Is he still there?"

All four looked back to the screens of the fandom, only to see a large message plastered across it: GAME OVER. PRESS 'R' TO TRY AGAIN.

"Uh…no. He's not there any more."

"Well he kinda is, over there, and across there, oh, and painted up that wall…" giggled Alice.

"Thank you Alice!" snapped Louise.

"Mmm, small rooms full of spikes! Just what I always wanted," quipped Tash after recovering from her face-fault at the sight of the messy video-game death.

"Apples don't fall _up_!" said Robert.

"Anyway, aside from idiots wanting to be the Guy; you said that most things were quiet. What's not quiet?"

"Well," began Tash, pulling up a recorded alert from earlier. "We picked up some Level Three Stu, but the fandom is a bit odd."

"Yeah, it looks like some sort of pocket fandom maybe? Something small and hovering in the in-between kind of thing," said Louise.

"It's only identifier is 'TNRC', and I'm sure it doesn't stand for any of the 'something-something-research-centres' that I found when I looked it up," said Alice.

"What could it mean I wonder?"

"Silly acronyms…"

"Still, Level Three, not entirely the alarm of the century, but with such a small fandom we ought to send a team in to get him…"

Robert had been silently watching the Librarian's reaction to this news; watching his expression slowly turn from interest to horror.

"Erm, ladies…?"

"What?" The three women swivelled on their chairs, and they too caught Adrian's expression.

"Love? Is everything okay?"

Adrian's eyes creased shut and he almost doubled over in an odd mixture of frustration, anguish and annoyance all bound up with the same surprise one might expect from catching someone's embarrassing secret.

"Why this, why now!" he wailed. "And why would someone be so STUPID – "

Baffled glances were exchanged.

"You know what it is, don't you?" ventured Louise slowly.

"It…it stands for…'TNRC' stands for the 'Thursday Night Risk Club'," he began, then spluttered as Alice swivelled to a computer and adjusted her search, bringing up a purple and gold website, designed almost like a holiday brochure.

"Oooh, it looks like fun!" said Tash, appreciating the pictures of the building and its amenities.

"It's NOT fun!" Adrian snapped.

"How about you stop complaining and tell us what it is, then?" retorted Louise.

"Wha – " He blinked at the sharp reply, and pulled himself together. "Okay…you're probably not going to like this…but you know some of those really good suave bad guys and characters who always manage to twist the plot for their own ends? The ones people call 'Magnificent Bastards'?" There were a few nods. Robert just looked confused. "Yeah…a lot of them got together and formed this Club where they can all meet and plot and relax. This pocket fandom," he gestured to the alert screen, "is where their clubhouse is…"

He tried to not watch Alice's scrutiny of the website, but she piped up with a question anyway. "So how do _you_ know of this place?"

"I…er, well…I'm a member…"

"_Really_?!"

Then Tash reacted – in the total opposite way to how he was expecting. "This sounds…AWESOME!" she squealed with delight, making Louise hold her hands over her ears.

Adrian stared at her. "You actually think this is a _good_ thing?!"

"Hell yes!" she beamed. "_Everything_ about this sounds brilliant! In fact…" She stood and pointed to the ceiling. "I declare a mission!"

"NO – "

"Gotta be responsible and pick up the Stu after all!"

"But – "

Alice glanced at the calendar in the corner of her screen and grinned. "Hey Tash, it's a Thursday!"

"Yes!" the Assistant Librarian cheered, dancing out of her seat.

"Baaww…just because it's a Thursday does _not_ mean that there is a meeting today!"

"Thursday Night Risk Club?" came a voice from the Monitor Room doors. The five whirled to see the slinky silhouette of Phoenixia standing there.

"No it's – "

"Yes indeedy!" said Tash, who was inordinately enjoying Adrian's unknown discomfort.

Phoenixia entered the room, booting the doors closed behind her as she gave Adrian an odd, but amused knowing look.

"We picked up traces of a Stu there, so we're going in!"

"Bah – "

Phoenixia grinned. "Awesome! I'll go dig out my Club dress." She pulled up a chair between Alice and Robert, and took the mouse of Alice's screen to negotiate through the posh website.

"You're coming too?"

"Well newbies can't get in without a member. And since he – " she jabbed a thumb at the now-pacing Adrian, "– is a member, and I am, or was, technically a part of him, I am also a member by default."

"How _did_ you become members?" asked Louise, watching her click through several screens.

"That's not necessary!" blurted Adrian.

"Noodle Incident?" Tash asked Phoenixia.

"Mmm, more like 'Vending Machine Incident'…"

"That's enough, you!"

She smiled, and at last came to a login screen with three more boxes than normal. Filling them in with practiced ease, Phoenixia finally brought up a calendar. "Evening meeting tonight, looks like! That's a formal dress code."

Tash gasped with hyperactive happiness and swirled up to dance with her Librarian kitty, who wasn't too enthused. "Now we _have_ to go!" she cheered, pulling on his arm.

"Yes…" he sighed. "I suppose we must, if only to get this idiot out of there pronto…if Nyarlathotep gets hold of the Stu before we do – well, suffice to say he'll be on a roasting spit stuffed with sage and apples within the hour."

There was a small smattering of laughter.

"No, I'm serious. _That's what happened to the last one_."

The laughter ceased abruptly, and Louise and Alice looked at each other.

"Yummy," said Alice, to Louise's elbow.

"I'm sorry, but who – or more to the point _what_ – is Ny…Nyarlathotep?" said Robert, after being silent to endure the excitable Tash for some time.

"Oh boy," grinned Phoenixia.

"Okay, you three – " began Adrian, pointing to Tash, Alice and Louise, "are WARGS, your mascot is Cthulhu, yes?"

All three nodded.

"Nyarlathotep is from the same mythos. Where Cthulhu is 'merely' a Great Old One, Nyarlathotep is the ambassador of the Outer Gods, and is more intelligent, more powerful, more interfering…generally just greater than Cthulhu could ever get. Oh, and he's actually _more interested in screwing around with us mortals_."

"Erm…"

"Cool!"

"Oh dear…"

"'Us mortals', Librarian?"

"Mortals, yes, I count as one to Nyarlathotep…mainly because I don't remember watching galaxy-birthing dust and I can still remember how many digits are in my age. So therefore I'm fair game. He's one of the Club's Founders, so you _will_ be meeting him…"

The four had an 'Ah' moment of thoughtful silence.

"So an Outer God is going to be in this place…and this is _safe_?" said Robert. He gestured behind him at the website. "The members list isn't exactly raising my confidence either! Shouldn't we fetch those agents who are more to these individuals' calibre?"

"No, it's going to be just us," said Adrian quickly, glancing surreptitiously to the Monitor Room doors. "I'll be damned if the rest of the Library find out about the TNRC…I'll never hear the end of it! You I can trust to keep it to yourselves – _you_ I can bribe instead," he pulled Tash into a one-armed embrace.

Louise raised a sardonic eyebrow, her lips pursing. She wasn't ready to keep secrets for the Librarian and his pride…

"Okay…preparation…I'm sure you ladies can find some formalwear…Robert, I'll give you a hand…"

"But this is people like – holy crap," Louise also glanced at the members list. "The Sheriff of Nottingham, Lex Luthor, Moriarty! How exactly are we getting in again?"

"We can get you in as Guests," said Phoenixia smoothly. "The Thursday Night Risk Club, honestly, the members are all gnarly bastards, but they're there to relax from the grief in their home fandoms, play Risk, and sometimes swap ideas. Most of them are perfect gentlemen – or ladies, yes – and it shouldn't be dangerous because I know you aren't stupid and you can all behave yourselves; yes, even you, Tash."

Tash, grinning at the jibe, had at last leaned over Alice to check the list for herself, and her concern also grew slightly. She turned the alert screen to a view into the fandom and looked at the readings. "There's a lot of _interesting_ people on this roster…" She glanced behind her at Adrian, who was busy puzzling how to get in and out in the shortest amount of time. "There's not going to be anyone here we _know_, right?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Phoenixia, quickly. "Most Sues and Stus only ask to join once then run in terror. Mostly because Nyarlathotep threatens to eat them."

"There's one more thing we need," said Adrian, looking up from a page of notes he'd made while no-one else was looking. "We need an independently-controlled spy of some kind…we'll all be mingling and having to play the social niceties; not conductive to a Stu-hunting mission…"

"Cristoph?" suggested Tash.

"No-one else!" Adrian snapped.

"He's also too big, he'll get caught, and he doesn't do formal," said Phoenixia, getting up to unkink Adrian's frazzled tail.

"What can we do?"

"Perhaps a remote-control robot?"

"I've got an idea!" blurted Alice suddenly, swooping out of her seat and through the double doors before anyone could catch her.

Adrian pressed himself to the doors until there was a knock on it again.

"We're fine! Everything's under control!"

"It's me, you muppet!"

He let Alice back in, but Tash stared at her treasure with growing apprehension.

"Alice why do you have a Poké ball in your hand?"

Alice giggled maniacally, and let the pink-blue-and-yellow Heal Ball fall from her hand, landing on the floor and releasing a cloud of white light.

"Oh god what does she think she's got in there – " Tash suddenly had images of a Wailord or a Rayquaza or a –

But the light coalesced into a surprisingly small and round creature, before dying down and revealing a levitating pale grey Pokémon with a white mask on the face. It blinked open two intelligent black eyes, and the short mobile antenna-thing on top of the head curled in interest.

"Castform!" said the Pokémon.

"There you go," said Alice proudly. "Use her as our spy."

Relieved that Alice had actually been sensible for once, and surprised at the charm of the little Pokémon, Tash squealed and leapt up to meet the small grey figure.

"So _cuuuuuute_!"

"Actually…" began Adrian, "…I think that's a very good idea. Castform – molecules like a cloud, right? She won't be detected so easily."

"And she blends nicely into the décor," said Phoenixia, joining Tash in the cuteness-swoon and greeting the Castform with a tickle on the cheeks. Castform smiled and bobbed her head in greeting, before flying up and settling on Alice's shoulder as she sat back down.

"Right, she'll do…we'd all best go and prepare…I'll tell you what to do as and when. And whatever you do…_don't let anyone see you_!"

OoO

That evening, Adrian stood alone in a small, plush but sparsely furnished room that he had named as the Parlour. It was far enough away from the central hub so that his guests-to-be might not be spotted by any others on their way to meet up.

If anyone was to look at him now, they would be quite surprised. Far removed from the casual trenchcoat look he always sported, he now wore a finely-tailored black suit that matched the formality of the evening's occasion. The double-breasted tailcoat fluttered down to his knees, and over his white dress shirt sat a silken violet waistcoat decorated with mother-of-pearl buttons and embroidered scrollwork. A white bowtie in the same material finished his ensemble. The only other elaboration was a set of white-gold cufflinks in the quill-and-sword saltire of the Society.

In a word, he looked _magnificent_.

He paced up and down slowly, hoping that the other five would not be spotted as they wove through the Library to meet him. Evening meetings actually started at noon, so there was no chance of being late, but if they wanted any sort of chance to avoid trouble in nabbing the Stu, it was preferable to get there as soon as possible.

There came a tap on the door, and Adrian only just resisted turning into a cat and swooping under the nearest chair. It wouldn't look good if there was cat hair all over his best suit. To his relief, it was Robert.

"Am I late?" he asked.

"No, you're the first to arrive," Adrian replied. "Come in, quick."

The door shut behind him, and he studied the room nervously before looking back to the Librarian. Robert's suit was borrowed, and not specially tailored, but it sufficed for the evening. The outerwear was a dove grey, just dark enough for the formality. He wore a waistcoat of royal blue, plain except for a tiny ring of gold thread around each buttonhole. He also wore a white necktie, but he was unused to such a thing so he was fidgeting a little.

"Any sign of the girls?"

"None."

Adrian sighed lightly. "It always takes them twice as long to get ready…"

"You don't begrudge them that, do you?"

"No, not really."

Soon the door opened again, and in slid the first of the four girls: Tash. Robert heard Adrian hold his breath as she smiled widely and stepped towards him. Her silvery-white sheath-style dress was held by a halter corset in a deep violet, matching Adrian's waistcoat. She wore a small and modest tiara of amethyst and crumbs of crystal, with matching earrings and bracelets. Her blonde hair seemed to glow against this ensemble, and completely enthralled, Adrian held her in his arms and kissed her gently.

"Have I ever told you…" he breathed softly, "…just how beautiful you are?"

"Mnang," was all she could reply, her cheeks colouring scarlet. She smiled at the compliment, however, and her arms snaked around his waist. "You don't look too bad yourself, handsome…" she said, her hand roving over his waistcoat and setting her bracelets jingling. "Where've you been hiding this suit?"

He merely chuckled in response.

Some ten minutes passed, and the three were now sat on chairs around a fine marquetry table, wondering whether they should get the card games out to pass the time. However at that very moment, the door opened again, and Phoenixia's purported 'club dress' was revealed: a bright lilac strapless trailing gown that layered in a spiral pattern and slit up one side, almost all the way to her hip but was held by a large fabric flower. There was an identical one in her hair, worn otherwise loose and long in a gradient going from brilliant white to silver at the ends. She wore opera-length sheer gloves and stockings revealed by the slit, both white with lilac and green ribbons at the top, and a similar worn as a choker. Around that was twisted a gold chain, with another saltire symbol attached to it, in gold.

"Formal Nixie is pretty!" cheered Tash.

"Why thank you," Phoenixia said, bowing flamboyantly and holding her skirts up at the back. "Certainly don't get much of an excuse to dress up like this."

"Everyone is going to be wearing this kind of thing, right?" asked Tash with a sudden hint of nervousness. "It's lovely but I feel so overdressed…"

"Trust me, you _do_ look exquisite…" said Phoenixia. "But the TNRC can be to the highest standard when they want to. This is nothing; you should see their seasonal balls. We'll blend in juuuuuust fine."

Another ten minutes passed, and the four had grown bored of gazing at each others' formalwear and had actually broken out their copy of Aquarius, or as the WARGS called it, 'hippy dominoes'. Water was currently in the lead with four panels connected by the time the penultimate agent entered the room.

Out of the four girls, only Alice and Louise had used the Automatic Tailorisation Machine to create a passable outfit for the night's formalities, and it had done itself proud. The latter of the two had been a little dubious about using the machine, but as Alice had pointed out, she had been in it enough times for it to have recognised her and saved her basic measurements.

Louise came through the door, closing it behind her. "Alice not here yet?" she queried.

The others shook their heads in unison. "We thought she'd be with you," said Tash.

"Bah," grumbled Louise. "She said she'd only be a minute! AFT strikes again."

"AFT?"

"Alice Faff Time. She's notorious for it."

Louise's dress was a subtle concoction, a red strapped bodice that extended to wrap around her waist, gradually darkening to black as it did so. The wide skirt did the same red-to-black effect, very nearly reaching the floor. She had embellished this with ruby jewellery and hairclips, and an unusual copper web that she wore around her hips.

"Hey, you look really good!" said Phoenixia.

"Thanks," Louise said with a smile. She too felt a little self-conscious in such a rich dress of a much higher and formal calibre than one would wear to a school prom.

"Want to be dealt in?" asked Robert, who had found himself rather good at this strange card game of elemental picture jigsaws.

"Oh…sure." She perched on a chair next to her old friend, and three brightly-coloured cards and another labelled 'Goal' were placed in front of her. She picked up the three cards and studied the current board; someone had kindly lined up three of her element's panels already. She squirmed a little, trying to find a comfortable position where she didn't feel like she was going to rip the fabric at the slightest movement.

It took a good couple of further rounds of Aquarius for the last member of this group to show up. "Sorry!" Alice gabbled with a smile all over her face. "Wanted to make sure I had everything!"

Alice's Empire-line dress was a soft, almost silvery powder blue at the lower, wide and floaty hem, darkening gradually almost to a royal blue where it fastened without sleeves over her chest. She wore royal blue flats – she tended to avoid high-heeled shoes – and emphasised the subtle hint of cleavage her dress revealed with a fine white pearl necklace. And of course, she wore her goggles on her head; the delicate apparatus was perfectly sufficient to wear as a formal headband.

It was also the first clothing she had worn that showed her scar from the Ak'Zahar attack from top to bottom. It had healed well in the intervening months, showing now as silvery-pink lines all the way down her right arm from across her shoulderblade to the back of her hand. It wasn't too unattractive, but it was obvious; Louise took one look and turned away, the old guilt resurfacing.

Castform flew in beside her, a white ribbon tied round her neck. She squeaked with delight, and went to sit on the table. Phoenixia tickled the top of her head.

Robert stood to meet Alice as she walked towards the group. He took her hand, her Singapore-chain bracelets slipping down her arm, and he smiled, unable to take his eyes off her. "Welcome, lovely one," he said softly.

Alice's wide smile turned into an amused grimace and she slipped out of his grasp and hugged him instead; much gentler than she normally would, but it still squeezed all the air out. She spun, her dress billowing as she moved, and plonked herself down in a chair to study the current game.

Robert's expression sank a little. His pulse was still racing.

Adrian and Tash looked at each other with eyebrows raised. Phoenixia shook her head imperceptibly.

"All right," the Librarian began. "Hello everyone. You sure you weren't followed? Right, good. Uhh."

"So eloquent, Adrian," said Phoenixia dryly. "Okay. We'll be off in a minute. There won't be a problem getting you in, so just make sure you're polite to the members no matter who they are and where they're from. There's some pretty gnarly bastards in the club, but remember they're there to relax, and they are perfectly able to be nice to you."

"As for the Stu…" mused Adrian. "I'm not sure how easy it will be to spot him. Don't make a scene, just grab someone if you're alone, and apprehend him quietly. Pretend you're chatting him up or something, ladies," he said, much to Robert's frown. "And whatever you do…don't let Nyarlathotep find him!"

The group stood, packing Aquarius back in its box and Alice trying to wrestle it into her bag. "Alice…"

"I'm sorry. Parties bore me. I can't just sit around and listen to music or whatever and just talk. I need something to do!"

"Oh don't worry about that," said Phoenixia. "Why do you think it's called the Thursday Night _RISK_ Club? There's an extensive games room."

Alice grinned, and left Aquarius on the table.

"A couple of more things before we go…" said Adrian, clucking to Castform, who flew up in front of him.

"Cast-form-cast?" she said. "Cast cast form cast form?"

"Umm…yes!" said Adrian, not really understanding Pokémonese. He had a thought to ask Dave to borrow Asuka's translation collar, but that was made for a male Flareon and was probably too big for the barely ten-inches-high Castform. Also, wearing this suit to go and ask him, or to fetch a Oneshot, would elicit all sorts of uncomfortable questions.

She seemed to be understanding and sensible enough, however. He took a tiny buttonhole camera out of a box, and clipped it to the front of the ribbon.

"As for the rest of you," he said, "one of the interesting quirks of the Club is that some groups of members and their guests wear a small identifier, something to tell who they're with at a glance. So these are for you." He gave his four guests a small box each, their names written on the top. Inside each was an individual piece of jewellery with the same quill-and-sword saltire the two members were already wearing at their wrists or neck.

Tash's hand went over her mouth as she picked up the engraved white-gold ring, the saltire glimmering with small light purple gems. Adrian helped her slide it onto her right hand. Louise and Alice had a charm each, with its own clip to attach it to practically anything; Louise slid her bright yellow-gold saltire onto the single thin bracelet she wore, where it slipped cold around her wrist. Alice's soft white-gold charm caught the light as she held it up, eventually deciding to fix it to her pearl necklace. Robert's gift was a tie pin, and Louise helped him attach it to his clothes.

"Well…I think we're ready. Prohibitors, communicators everyone?" They patted their bags or their pockets. "We won't need anything else…"

"Copyrights?" asked Tash.

"So not necessary," said Phoenixia. "Not with these guys."

Tash looked baffled and a little apprehensive.

"All right, let's go…" sighed Adrian.

OoO

Many people, on meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: one, that he was English; two, that he was intelligent; and three, that he was gayer than a tree-full of monkeys on nitrous oxide.

Two of these were wrong: Heaven is not in England, whatever certain poets might have thought; and angels are sexless, unless they really wanted to make an effort. But he _was_ intelligent.

Which was why he held a special place in the Thursday Night Risk Club: he was the receptionist.

Adrian grumbled something about ripping off _Good Omens_ quotes and threatened some method of dismemberment for daring to break the Fourth Wall to mention it.

The six entered the Club's fandom outside, in a covered circular area lined with marble pillars. They could see that it was evening, and they were on a large island with a climate comparable to northern Spain. The deep aqua sea lapped against the beach only a few yards away from the walkway that led to a large white-brick building, only three or so stories high but lit beautifully from the outside. Beyond the clubhouse they could make out a golf course, cliffs and forests.

There was no-one else in sight as they went through the large oak double doors, entering a bright hall walled with gilt and marble and mirrors. Purple velvet ropes sectioned off a queue area, and with a few giggles the six wove their way through to the other end of the room. In front of another set of doors banded with purple and gold cloth sat a large, L-shaped desk in a dark wood, and in the comfortable leather swivel chair sat the Club's famed receptionist.

"Ah," Aziraphale said, setting down his book. "Librarian, long time no see."

"Hello, Aziraphale."

"And Lady Phoenixia. A pleasure, as always," he said, standing and kissing Phoenixia's hand with a flourish.

He looked much like a normal man, if a strangely well-sculpted one; but those who had read the magic that was the Gaiman-and-Pratchett tag-team knew that Aziraphale was actually an angel and not human at all. Tash pulled out her Plot Summary, which was going a little haywire with the humongous crossover that this fandom presented to it.

"…just been quiet, really. Not much from Crowley recently. Anyway, it's good to see you back, Adrian, Phoenixia. Now, your guests…" Aziraphale turned to a light silver laptop that was built into the desk, and tapped a few keys. "Any sanctioned?"

"No, not presently," Adrian answered. "…I think I'd like to see about getting Tash sanctioned, maybe…"

"All right, we'll look into that…"

Tash looked at Adrian; was he intending to take her back here?

"Names and home fandoms, please?" Aziraphale asked.

"Okay…Natasha, or Tash, Real Life. Louise, Real Life; Alice, Real Life. Robert, _Forgotten Realms_. Also Alice's…um…mascot, Castform, _Pokémon_."

"Uh huh…" The angel finished typing. "That's all fine. Keep an eye on the first three, would you? Folk from Real Life tend to cause trouble."

"…There've been _others_?" exclaimed Tash.

"Oh yes, frequently. We had one 'Putin' fellow here a few months ago."

Tash looked to Adrian, who had facepalmed at the news. "I would have once asked 'why' and 'how'…but this is the TNRC, I don't ask any more."

"All right. Guests, would you please allow me to stamp you hands…" He landed a largeish rubber stamp on Louise's hand before the agent could protest; however there was no mark except for some moisture which quickly dried. He stamped the other three, and even laid one on Castform's forehead much to her struggles, but they looked at their bare hands in puzzlement.

"Uhh, Aziraphale, there's nothing here," said Alice.

"Of course there is. We just don't want any ghastly ink smudge ruining your charming outfit, do we?" He waved a small silver scanner wand over Alice's hand, and the stamp appeared under its light, marking the icon of the Club in luminous purple and gold. "See, you are now Permitted Guests. You may enter the Club."

"Thank you!" cheered Alice, practically diving over the desk to hug him, much to Aziraphale's "Eeek!"

"Oh God, she's going to be doing this all night, isn't she…"

OoOoOoOoO

The door to Harriet's office opened, and out strode the Society founder. She was in a good mood. She had passed her most recent set of exams in Real Life, and had managed to convince Tyler that all the booby-traps around Adrian's store of candy had vanished with the Librarian's death. It would take the poor agent little time to realise that the majority of the British agents had already eaten all the decent sweets, leaving the coffee creams and the toffees as the only ones remaining in an otherwise empty barrel.

She felt only slightly guilty about tricking Tyler, who would no doubt have told Drake, Jared and Ben about it by now. It was, Harriet thought, not her fault if the Librarian had been too absorbed in his war with Runoa to have noticed.

She walked down the corridor that led from her office with a spring in her step. She was on the hunt for Tash to share in the joke.

A quick knock on the Librarian's bedroom told her that neither Adrian nor Tash were in there. Knocks on their door were usually accompanied by a squeak and rapid redressing. Harriet smiled to herself as she remembered the last time she had forgotten to knock. _Good thing I had a camera_, she thought.

Rhia's kitchen was equally devoid of the Librarian and the Leader, although she did find Stephen and Dave engaged in a frantic game of Yu-Gi-Oh.

"Hey guys," she interrupted, much to their annoyance. "You two know where I might find Tash?"

"I think she's on duty," Dave explained, staring down at the card Stephen had just played, and not looking at the Society founder. His opponent merely grumbled at the interruption.

"Thanks," Harriet called back as she ran from the kitchen.

It didn't take her long to reach the Monitor Room, and with a skip in her step, she flung the door open.

"Hey Tash, you'll never guess what I…" then she noticed that the room was empty. "Hello?" She initially thought it was a poor-taste joke, but no-one replied.

Harriet scowled. "Of all the bloody people…you, Tash!" Leaving the Monitor Room unmonitored was a massive faux pas where the Founder was concerned; especially since the issues in the Basement had prompted a review of all the rotas. A check of the noticeboard indeed confirmed that both her cousin and Tash were meant to be on duty – yet here Harriet was, with neither in sight!

Fuming, she paced up and down, devising and then discarding amusing and embarrassing public punishments for the pair for severely shirking their duties. One singular monitor then caught her eye in the sea of otherwise boredom and blackness. It showed a lavish entrance hall, with people milling around in conversation. As she watched, she began to recognise various people all in posh suits or evening dresses, people from varying fandoms who really shouldn't have known each other. She was getting very confused when she spotted a group of six very familiar individuals enter…

"WHAT…" Harriet yelled at the screen, "…_ARE_ YOU DOING IN THERE?" For it was her missing agents who walked into the Atrium, along with Alice and her charge and a surprisingly anxious-looking Librarian and his ex-hologram. "You went to a fancy shindig without inviting _me_?!"

She watched the scene for a while, furious that Tash and Louise had abandoned their duties to go gallivanting into some party fandom. As the group of six dithered at the top of the stairs, a mischievous, vengeful smile spread across Harriet's face.

"Right…" she muttered, her grin widening as she spotted a rogue blinking silver heart in the corner of the monitor. She pressed it. "(a), dearest…"

There was a small beep from the computer, and the silver heart danced.

"Here's a wheeze for you. Transfer the stream from monitor 13 to the mod-sofa lounge, would you?"

OoOoOoOoO

_To be continued in... _

_Chapter Two: Infiltration_


	2. Chapter Two: Infiltration

Welcome back to the Thursday Night Risk Club!

Yay! We're posting on schedule!

Yanks – It came to my attention during writing that you don't know what trifle is. Basically it's a cold pudding made up of layers of things. It's very British (news to me! O.o) and it's very tasty.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Infiltration**

OoOoOoOoO

"_Of the Library Arcanium, the Librarian Adrian and the Lady Phoenixia, and guests._"

The announcement of their entry was somewhat embarrassing, especially as Adrian didn't want the Stu knowing of their presence. Luckily however the announcement only reached the first room beyond the Club's lobby, and there were very few people here. At least six open doors led into further rooms, all differently decorated though keeping to the colour scheme of purple, gold and white.

Tash was on Adrian's arm, and she nudged him softly to descend the stairs and enter the big room proper. Phoenixia patted Louise's shoulder and they started down, but Alice slipped her hand away from Robert's in her excitement and hopped down the stairs.

He looked down and followed, with Phoenixia smiling at him in support. Alice's thrill to be here…she had completely missed the fact that Robert had dressed with royal blue to match her deliberately. She had heard that he had been seeking advice from his fellow men…

"Calm down, Alice!" grinned Adrian. "Okay. We're in, as much good as that does. Mingle if you want, but try not to stay out of sight of each other. Castform?"

"Cast cast-form-cast?"

"All right, little one. We need you to be our eyes and ears from above. If you stay near the ceilings, there're some ledges you can perch on."

"Form cast!"

"Good luck."

Castform wiggled her little antenna, and zoomed off up to the high ledges.

Adrian continued to give instructions. Phoenixia rolled her eyes, and went off in search of strawberries.

"…this room is the Atrium, and through there on the right you have the Gallery, the Buffet and the Games room, all the rooms are labelled; and that way's the Conservatory, the Music room, the Lounge. Over there past the big stage is the Courtyard, there are large glass doors that lead through to the Patio or the Balcony, the Ballroom won't be in use today…there're teleporter buttons that take you to the toilets off practically every room, you can't miss them. And…"

"Adrian, I'm _sure_ we'll be fine!" said Louise, fed up of hovering. Luckily, at that moment, Phoenixia reappeared with sugared strawberries she'd nobbled from a passing waiter, handing a porcelain bowl each to the four guests and watching Adrian continue to waffle.

_Mmm, waffles,_ she thought. _Wonder if the Buffet has any tonight._

She glanced towards the room in question then back to Adrian, who was doing a bad job of keeping the Agents' attentions. She heard Louise sigh, and rolling her eyes, Phoenixia poked her on the arm, gestured towards the Buffet – and with a grin, the two women slipped off to get dinner.

At the same time, Alice's attention had wandered and she too grew a mischievous grin. Glancing up to Castform's ledge, she gave the Pokémon a wave and shot off into the Atrium's crowd.

Only now did Adrian notice his group had suddenly halved. "Hey hang on, you haven't heard – "

"Adrian you're being boring. We're not _that_ socially retarded," groaned Tash. "By the looks of it we can look after ourselves. Alice is already proving that they're happy to indulge us – oh. Wow."

The overexcited Alice had, after asking nicely first, just wrapped her arms around an aqua-haired man that Tash didn't recognise…he sighed and patted her on the head.

"That's two," she giggled. "They've got to be indulging for that to happen…"

"Or they know she's just being sincere…it's not like Alice is much of a threat?" said Robert.

"Except to one's ribs!" said Adrian.

"Come on you. I want you to show me around!" said Tash, tugging on Adrian's jacket sleeve and pulling him further into the large room.

Adrian glanced towards Louise, watching her head into the Buffet with Phoenixia and disguising his fleeting concern. One of the subjects Merle had forced her to research for her whilst under the sleeper agent spell had been the nature, creation and maintenance of medium-level pocket fandoms, very similar to that of the Thursday Night Risk Club. He knew Louise was fine now, and most likely would be useful to keep the over-excited Alice in check, but briefly he wondered what Merle wanted to do with such information before he refocused on Tash's questions.

Poor Robert was left alone at the entrance…

He had gotten used to feeling out of his depth by now. He didn't usually have a day go by in the Library that didn't threaten to overwhelm him somewhat. Luckily he had developed ways of dealing with them, mostly by fencing with Thomas, talking to Alice and Louise or dealing with his Basement Welfare Officer duties, the latter of which especially took up a lot of his time.

He watched Alice talk excitedly with figures he knew only by home fandom, but knew could be dangerous through their reputation. He thought it odd that these characters would put up with this…but Adrian's point of them needing a rest or to talk plans made sense, if an odd one.

He was uncomfortable, partially from an over-heightened sense of wariness, and partially from his constricting suit. Watching Alice with a mixture of concern and longing, he wove slowly through the Atrium to another room, deciding to do what they came for and search for some kid who didn't belong.

As Robert ventured into the Lounge, the only people in the group still in the Atrium were Adrian and Tash – they saw Alice cheep with happiness as she discovered the Games Room.

"I need a drink…" Adrian murmured. He could feel the sweat under his shirt.

Tash squeezed his hand and glanced around. Phoenixia had acquired her strawberries from somewhere…she spotted a waiter with glasses of water, but was a little dubious in going up to him.

Her.

It?

The ghostly-white figures who were performing waiter duties were all dressed in silver and lilac suits, hairless and pale and politely silent as they went about their duties with varying drinks and foods. They were more than just rather odd, but thankfully the fact their marble-like faces were gently unsmiling lessened the uncanny valley effect somewhat.

"Er, hi," said Tash. "Is this just water? Plain? No alcohol?"

The waiter-robot-creature-thing nodded.

"I'll take two, these two. Thanks a lot." She babbled a little to stave off being unnerved by their silence, and went back to Adrian, who was smirking a little as he watched her interaction.

"Weird thing…"

"You get used to them," he replied, downing the water in one and fighting off the urge to throw the other over his head. "I'm almost wishing for something stronger…"

"Stronger? You mortals and your ethanol," came a voice from out of nowhere. Tash put a hand over her heart after her shock as the owner of the voice melted out of the crowd and clapped Adrian on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "Adrian, young'un! Well done for dragging yourself back."

The man was very tall, very slim and very dark – an Ethiopian black so deep that at night all one might see of him would be that brilliant white shark's grin. He wore a dark green suit and cravat with a few Egyptian-themed embellishments. His shadow seemed to be fake, moving, falsely constrained; he scared Tash ever-so-slightly.

"Nyarlathotep," greeted Adrian with an unusual wariness.

Ah. That was why.

"How's that dusty old bookshop of yours?"

"It's fine, thank you." It seemed that Adrian had learned to take Nyarlathotep's mockery with a straight face.

"Excellent, excellent!" The Outer-God-in-human-form then turned to Tash. "And this must be your…guest?"

Tash was all ready with a cheeky quip – she wasn't going to let something as big as a _god_ intimidate her! – but the words froze in her throat and she stood there with her mouth hanging open as Nyarlathotep's gaze swept over her.

"Yes…this is Tash. She is one of my guests here tonight, and, erm, my-my better half…"

"Ah." The tall man swept around to stand in front of her, his dancing green eyes almost mesmerising as he took her in. "_Enchanté_,_ mademoiselle_," he said, taking her right hand and kissing it in greeting.

Tash's lips moved in her best impression of a goldfish. Her mind was returning error messages. His hand was gentle and warm but didn't seem _quite_ right.

He let go, and the spell was broken.

"…Nice to meet you Mr. God-face!" came out what remained of Tash's cheek in a blurt, as she lowered her hand.

Nyarlathotep chuckled and turned back to Adrian. "So what brings you back, Librarian?" he asked. "It's no secret you only attend when you deem necessary."

"Strictly business…"

"As usual. Well, let's just hope that your 'business' doesn't make a nice round hole in our ceiling like the last time, eh?"

Adrian went as red as Tash's strawberries. "I was not responsible for my trajectory!"

"What hole?" asked Tash, glancing up and around in the Atrium and seeing nothing more than white tiles and a gold-bordered circular skylight in the ceiling.

She stared at it for a long moment before pointing up to it. "…That hole?"

"That hole indeed," said Nyarlathotep cheerily, but with a sardonic look at the red-faced Adrian. "He had a bit of a spat with his dear mother on his last trip here…I had to break the children up after he went through our roof…"

"What?" spluttered Tash. "Runoa is _here_?!"

"She better not be," grumbled Adrian darkly.

"Oh she won't be," said Nyarlathotep with a dismissive shrug. "Not after blowing a hole in our roof, let me tell you."

"Okay…" said Tash, still unsure.

"Trust me my dear, that little minx won't dare show her face here again." Nyarlathotep's grin widened forebodingly. "She sends associates to keep her up to date. Although – why, Librarian," he smirked, "your cheeks have gone red enough to heat water, surely?"

Tash groaned.

"Aren't you always a source of amusement when you come here. Many _fondly_ remember the time you got blind drunk on punch and fell into the trifle…I wonder what fun you have in store for us tonight?" Nyarlathotep laughed, lightly and slightly mocking. "Anyway, Librarian, my dear…I must go and continue to be social with my favourite mortals…"

And the Outer God sauntered away, a wine glass materialising in his hand, out to find his next target.

Tash, still in a little shock, watched him for a moment, before glancing at her partner. Adrian looked ready to sink to the floor in a purple-faced embarrassed heap.

"I think I'm beginning to see the picture now…" she began.

Adrian made an incoherent noise, and Tash grabbed his arm and dragged him over to one of the buttons on the wall in the corner. She pressed the large control, and the pair dematerialised.

OoO

Louise followed Phoenixia through the crowd that was slowly milling around the Atrium. There were a number of people that she recognised from various fandoms, but her attention was primarily on following Phoenixia's drifting figure in front of her. Louise didn't want to get lost in amongst all the canon characters.

As the pair approached the door to the Buffet, a small area of chaos surrounded a miniature silver-gilded robot who was making and serving small canapés as a show. Squeezing their way into the eatery through the amused throng, Louise spotted several heavily-laden gold-covered tables through a glass archway.

"What kind of food are they likely to have?" she asked Phoenixia as they entered and considered which queue to join. The room was a gleaming white, the lights reflecting off the gold-leaf-edged mouldings. The ceiling was a deep royal purple, contrasting beautifully with the metallic gold of the tablecloths. Out of the window she could see deep forest and the sparkle of the ocean in the night.

"All kinds," she said, enthused, "just grab a plate and help yourself!" Phoenixia did just that, turning around with a white octagon of porcelain with gilded filigree edges and the purple logo of the Club in the middle, and began ladling some potato salad onto it.

Louise looked around the length of the first table. It was a mixture of green leaf salads, cold meats, cheeses and pickles. She collected one of the beautiful china plates from the stack by the door. It was a far cry from the paper disposable plates she was familiar with.

Looking down the table, Louise found it difficult to take in the variety of food laid out before her. She quietly helped herself to a couple of slices of cold meat, and a selection of cheeses. Salads were not Louise's thing, and she positively cringed at the thought of eating olives and peppers.

Phoenixia was already moving onto the second table where the food was equally as elaborately arranged. In addition to the potato salad, she was asking the waiter for the hog roast, which was quietly turning behind the table. Louise silently wished Alice was with her, the meat would have made her friend's mouth water with pleasure.

Louise glanced around at some of the members and their guests, knowing many and recognising many more. Her eyes settled on a sandy-haired man in an indigo suit, but before her mind could process whether she knew of him, her gaze caught a thin young man wearing light emerald green as a prominent favourite. She blinked as the slight gentleman disappeared into the crowd, shook her head, and finally caught up with Phoenixia by the dessert table. The ex-hologram was having a discussion with one of the club members.

"No, my Lord," she was saying with a big smile, "nothing like that will happen this time. Promise!"

The figure she was talking to came into view as Louise wove her way through the eaters. She hovered back from Phoenixia briefly as she recognised the man.

"See that it doesn't," the man said, and as Louise approached he walked away, the crowd parting respectfully.

"What were you talking to Vetinari about?" she asked of Phoenixia.

"Oh," she smiled, "he wanted to make sure this," her hand gestured towards an enormous trifle bowl, almost large enough to have a bath in, which was filled with a pudding made up of layer upon layer upon _layer_ of biscuits, cakes, custards, cream, chocolate, jellies and fruit, "stays in one piece this time…"

"It hasn't before?"

"Let's just say Adrian got very drunk one year…he has a penchant for the Club's punch…"

"Oh..." Louise laughed, eying yet another table on which sat eight massive crystal punch bowls, two of each of red, yellow, purple and green iced liquid that were being served in glasses by a team of butlers. "The cat really got the cream then?"

Phoenixia gave a light chuckle, tasting her food. Her eyes were not completely focused on Louise. She was remembering a Club meeting long ago when Adrian had been forced to confront another, more powerful member, with very different – and less amusing – results.

"Nixie?" Louise's voice was suddenly quiet and serious, causing her companion to look up.

"Yes?"

"When all this is over, I was wondering…could we have a private professional chat?" Louise stared at her feet as she spoke.

Phoenixia slipped into counsellor mode easily, recognising Louise's need to resolve her problems and glad that she had finally asked. "Of course we can," she replied. "But whatever is bothering you, try to forget about it while you are here. Enjoy yourself." She flashed Louise a beaming smile before helping herself to a collection of small cakes from the dessert table.

"I'll have a bit of that, and one of these, and a bowl of this, and some of this…ooooh, cheesecake!"

OoO

The Cloakroom was actually a suite of rooms at the back of the main building, just as lavishly decorated in purple, gold and white. There was an actual cloakroom, a set of toilets complete with attendants, a marble bath in a room of its own and, upstairs, a dormitory for those who became ill or were tired.

An LCD map of the clubhouse suddenly lit up, one room glowing a bright yellow; and Adrian and Tash reappeared on their teleport from the Atrium.

"Ooooh," Tash gushed as she looked around. "You guys certainly don't do things by half! Even your toilets are gorgeous!"

Adrian had gone to flop onto a black velvet chaise-longue, where he leaned back into the plush cushions and sighed.

"This is such a nice place!" Tash continued, whirling from panel to panel and peering in every door. He detected that her talkativeness stemmed from the unnerving encounters in the Atrium. "The people too, and the food, don't know about those butler things, this is all just great! I wish you'd told us about this before – "

"There's a reason I didn't!" he wailed.

She blinked at him.

"Sorry…look, I'm not happy here, I've _never_ been happy here; a lot of these characters are just so blasé about things. I just want to get the Stu and go home," he said.

Tash sat down beside him, her light skirt settling around her legs. She reached over and began to rub at the knots in his shoulders.

"I don't think I've seen you blush so much. Is it really that embarrassing?"

"Yes!"

"Which, the hole in the roof or the trifle?"

Adrian groaned and put his head in his hands, but she felt him begin to relax under her gentle massaging.

"Relax…" she whispered. "No-one's around…we have all the time in the world…the Stu can wait. I know how I can get you to relax…" she crooned as one hand crept upwards towards an ear.

"Nyarlathotep knows we're here for a reason, he's going to be extra watchful, he can see through any pretence…" he murmured, unconsciously twitching at Tash's touch.

"Oh screw him!" she giggled, leaning further into him and entwining their legs.

But as her hand went to one of Adrian's most obvious erogenous zones, he turned swiftly and grabbed her hands. "Tash! Not now."

Blue and violet eyes met, hers wide with shock.

"…Please."

She nodded slowly. "Okay, that's okay," she said softly. "Sorry…"

He smiled weakly, and Tash spotted a water fountain in the corner under the stairs. Standing and shaking out her long skirt, she sauntered over, thinking silently as she filled a glass with water much cooler than the glasses from the Atrium.

_He really doesn't like it here, does he?_

He seemed to pick up her silence and became uncomfortable. "Look, Tashy…"

"It's okay," she said, smiling warmly as she delivered the water. "We can look for the Stu in quieter areas. Didn't you say there was a patio or something?"

"Yes…there is. It's lovely too, with a koi carp pond, and watching the stars…"

"Much nicer, mm? Maybe you'll calm down."

He nodded into his ice water, and smiled for the first time. "I knew you'd understand."

"Of course!" she beamed. "You know, this reminds me of – "

She was cut off by a sudden darkening of the room as the door to the outside swung shut. A new presence was in the room, chilling it with its malevolence.

The pair looked around; the figure was swathed in swirling black from neck to floor, and as he removed an outer cloak to give to one of the butlers, he looked at his silent audience with red snake-like eyes set in smooth grey skin.

It was Lord Voldemort.

However the response to his entrance was rather unexpected.

"VOLDY!" cheered Tash, throwing her arms in the air.

"Oh good grief," groaned the Dark Lord. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Oh we're just visiting," she said, hugging Adrian's arm.

Adrian smiled sheepishly.

"I'm here to have a relaxing evening, not to be harassed by Muggle sympathisers!" Voldemort snapped.

He made to march towards the teleporter button, for the first time revealing his companion snake Nagini following like a loyal retriever with a black silk ribbon tied in a bow just beneath her head. He paused with his hand just in front of the controls. He looked back to Tash, a look of apprehension on his face.

"You…you haven't brought your little green friend with you, have you?"

"Nooooo," Tash replied sweetly, giggling inwardly…they may not have brought Jenny, but they had potentially brought someone much worse…she decided to not mention Alice and hoped she got to watch the fun.

Voldemort scowled, and shook his head in annoyance, then vanished as he touched the teleporter.

Adrian leaned over and kissed Tash on the cheek. "Ahh Tash…you're such a breath of fresh air."

OoOoOoOoO

"That one! That one!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Harriet pushed open the door to the Mod Sofa Lounge and regarded the growing audience with some satisfaction. There must have been about five people in the Lounge when (a) had transferred the feed, and intrigued by this video of a leader and five of her cohorts doing things in this posh setting, more had come to watch.

The smell of popcorn and fizzy pop permeated the air, and voices shot back and forth as the now large group watched the entertainment.

Specifically, Alice.

A large wager field had been quickly drawn up and people were betting with a large jar of boiled sweets as to who she might glomp next as she made some sort of pretence of searching the Games Room.

She had already glomped the Mercury Adept Alex in the Atrium, causing Ben to whoop with joy. She had also, by this stage, bent the ribs of an unusually merry Moriarty, the lazily amused Vlad Masters who had phased through her arms after a few seconds, a richly-dressed boastful Baal whose squeak had sounded hilarious through the Goa'uld filter, and even an impassive Master who'd given her a patronising pat on the head.

She had also gone for a figure known as Xellos, but he had dropped everything and legged it by fading into purple mist before she got there. Dave had laughed at the sight after being mortified beforehand.

"She's mental!" laughed Jess, barely able to sit up.

"Ain't half fun to watch though!"

"Give me your mint rock! I won the Baal bet!" said Rhia, scrabbling for a pile of sweets from the paper table. "More please, Alice!"

As if to oblige, (a) started playing _Yakety Sax_ quietly through the speakers. Everyone laughed.

Her next challenge was to get her arms around the hard-to-read snappy Marine Special Agent Gibbs… To her audience's giggles, the fifty-odd-year-old man in dress blues made her hold out her arms and turn around to make sure she wasn't armed before he reluctantly allowed her a few-second hug, also tapping her lightly on the head as she released. His red-headed companion was struggling to hold in her laughter.

There were cheers and sweets changing hands as Alice managed a running glomp-tackle on Intendant Kira from _Star Trek Mirror Universe_, who had been the only one to actually _ask_ to be hugged and was more than happy to oblige. Next, she turned to the vampire overlord Kain, standing nearby, but like Xellos he also teleported the hell out of there.

"Awww," went Alice, to even more waves of laughter and collapsing agents. Harriet grinned and grabbed a handful of crisps as she watched.

Her next victim only noticed that he had been hugged when his purple-robed brother-in-arms gave a polite cough.

"There seems to be something clinging to your leg, Horus."

"Indeed," said the pre-Chaotic Primarch of the Luna Wolves.

Alice, at only five foot four, barely came up to the level of his crotch. She looked up and beamed, not knowing exactly why these gnarly bastards were letting her squish them but having fun nonetheless.

"Do I need a spatula?" he asked, highly amused. The white-haired Fulgrim was grinning.

"Noooo…" she sing-songed, detaching – but then she dove for the Emperor's Children Primarch. Fulgrim caught her mid-glomp and swept her up to sit in the crook of his arm, her height at least off the ground. She hugged his shoulder instead, pulling her silver-blue skirt around her.

Plonked gently back down, Alice sank onto a purple sofa to catch her breath. Her smile was all over her face. She had no idea that her audience were having even more fun just by watching her and betting over her movements – not less that they had noticed that the Games Room was swiftly emptying!

OoOoOoOoO

By this point Robert had calmed down significantly, and as he discovered the large selection of fine wines and ales, had begun to enjoy himself. He didn't know the majority of the men, women and other creatures who frequented the white-and-wood decorated Lounge, so he mostly kept quiet and to the edges, but those whom he had spoken to – or more specifically, had addressed him in passing – had seemed rather relaxed and polite, despite in some cases what must be a fearsome reputation, if only he'd known what they were.

He dared to meet gazes, and quickly learnt that nobody minded, but he was a little too nervous to invoke conversation. He passed endless suits and gowns; sandy hair and indigo, dusty brown and messy, black and red and neat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glow of powder-white and royal blue step into the room. He held his breath and looked over towards the door; Alice, her golden-brown hair a mess and her face flushed rosy-pink, accepted a glass of light punch from a passing butler. Downing the cool drink – he did hope it wasn't too alcoholic, if at all – she set the glass down and pulled off her goggles to smooth down her flyaway hair.

Robert noticed that a conversation near to him had slowed after her entrance, and the man in the black suit and crimson silk waistcoat and bowtie he had acknowledged before approached her.

He watched Alice's grin grow as she sought out another potential glomp on her tally – but then watched it drop and her eyes widen as she recognised the smartly-dressed gentleman a little too well.

"The fuck are _you_ doing here?!" she gasped.

"I could ask you the exact same thing, my dear," the man replied coolly.

"But…why aren't you…how…huh?"

"Eloquent as always," said the man, shaking his head. "You know my penchant for influence; you gave me free rein to make plans. You honestly expected me to _not_ travel and network?"

"Buh…" Alice was lost for words. Robert decided to intervene.

"Begging your pardon, uh, sir, we have…business to attend to in the Atrium…"

The man nodded, and Alice hugged Robert's arm.

"You're tall…" was all she managed to get out.

"Yes. And you're short," came the comeback.

"Come on Alice…" said Robert.

The man watched the pair leave the Lounge arm-in-arm, and his eyebrow rose. He had already noticed his audience, a blond gentleman in the navy Victorian suit.

"Entertained, Lord Verelli?" he queried.

The gentleman smirked. "Say, Eclipse…wasn't that your author?"

Eclipse heaved a sigh. "So it would seem…"

Alice shivered slightly as she and Robert walked back into the Atrium.

"Have you seen the Stu yet?" she asked him, looking around as they stepped onto the huge white marble floor.

"Not a sign," Robert said as he gazed down at Alice. His face told all the emotion that was pulsing through his body, and yet the subject of his adoration didn't notice.

"Maybe the others have had more success."

Robert sighed. He wanted her to notice him, to realise that he was in love, but as he told himself every day, he was prepared to wait.

"Maybe," was all he could muster in reply.

The Atrium was beginning to get less crowded as people moved from the entrance way to the adjoining rooms, but there were still some groups in the corners and by the stage. Robert knew their entrance would not have gone unnoticed, but in studying the members within, he could see nobody that looked out of place. If there was a Stu here, he was keeping far from the majority of the other members' eyes – he knew he would be, if he was trying to learn how to fit in with a highly socially-skilled group.

"Alice, I think we ought to be searching the side rooms, perhaps," he suggested. "I do not think we will find him in here…"

"Find whom?" came a voice from behind the pair.

Alice jumped, but Robert turned fluidly to face the speaker. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a rich-looking dinner jacket, and a tanned, neatly bearded Mediterranean face that was relaxed with only a slight amused puzzlement.

"David _Xanatos_?" said Alice, eyes wide and her smile growing to match.

The Grecian-American millionaire of _Gargoyles_ fame rolled his eyes a little, smiled and wordlessly spread his arms to allow Alice to hug him. Alice seemed a little glomped out however, and the much gentler hug was short.

"Alice, he's a Founder…" said Robert weakly.

"And it's a pleasure to see you both here. Now, you seem to be looking for someone. Can I help?"

"Oh," said Alice dismissively, "we don't know, we don't know what he looks like, we're just seeing who else is here…" Her bullshit-cogs in full flow enough that it was making her gabble, and Robert could tell that Xanatos wasn't convinced in the slightest.

"Who are you with?" he asked.

Alice dinged the white gold saltire charm on her necklace, and that told him everything. He nodded, and she pointed out the members of their group she could see.

"We always welcome guests," he said smoothly, glancing to Louise peering into the Music Room and Phoenixia taking a plate of cake out towards the Patio. "I will be sure to greet the Librarian when I see him…If you'll excuse me?"

Alice did a little manic dance as Xanatos sauntered off, leaving Robert to put an arm around her to get her to settle. However, neither noticed the Founder lean towards his compatriot, Lord Vetinari of _Discworld_, and whisper four words…

"We have an intruder."

OoO

Phoenixia wandered away from Louise, who was still happily helping herself to the selection of desserts, and headed towards the door, a plate piled high with mini-cakes balanced precariously in her hands. As she reached the exit, she looked back at the young agent, who was now in deep conversation with a dark-haired young man. Phoenixia cared for all the agents in the Society in one way or another. Some people, like Tash, were cared for in a very physical way; whilst others, such as Alice, were watched over in a maternal, compassionate manner. Louise didn't really fall into either of the two categories; she was a psychological mystery. She was an outwardly bubbly, cheerful soul who saw the best in everyone, but the ex-hologram knew that beneath this benign exterior, she had a dark past – a past that was always waiting, waiting for the right moment to rear its ugly head.

As she watched Louise, her attention was caught by a stranger standing in one corner of the buffet room. His sandy hair and haughty expression contrasted with the white walls of the room, and he looked somewhat out of place despite the plate of food he was delicately consuming. None of the Club's patrons were really paying him any attention, and yet Phoenixia was finding her eyes were increasingly drawn to him.

"He's the Stu," she murmured to herself. "It's the only possibility."

There was no chance of successfully chasing down the Stu through the crowd of people, Phoenixia realised. She would need to regroup with the others and come up with a plan. She looked around for Louise, who was still chatting to the Club members.

Giving the young agent more time, she turned to head out of the door, colliding with a gentleman in the process.

"Oh," she gasped. "I'm sorry." She looked up into the dark eyes of Lord Asriel himself. Dressed in a smart suit of brown, with a grey waistcoat and burgundy tie, he seemed to tower over the ex-hologram, despite them being of almost equal height.

"Forgive me," he smiled, and his dominant presence seemed to shrink slightly, and saying no more, he collected a plate. Giving Phoenixia a final, knowing grin Lord Asriel disappeared into the throng of people to collect his food.

"Mmm…" she said quietly, looking down at the pile of cakes teetering uncertainly on the plate before her. There were a decidedly fewer there now than when she had put them all there. Looking back across the room, she spotted a number piled neatly on the disappearing plate of Lord Asriel.

"Cheeky little..." Phoenixia sighed and looked around. The young man in the indigo suit she had spotted earlier had vanished. She turned and headed straight out of the door.

Carefully making her way around the edge of the main room, Phoenixia spotted two familiar faces – relaxing on a cast-iron bench in front a beautifully lit koi pond on the terracotta patio just off the Courtyard. Grumbling under her breath at the sight, she marched out to confront them.

"Look at you two. We're doing all the work, and you're just sitting around!"

"Pot kettle black, Phoenixia. You've been stuffing your face," Adrian countered lightly, his hand resting on Tash's legs, which were laid across his lap.

"Touché…" she replied. "Cake?" She proffered the plate to her friends.

"Ooo," Tash sat up, and selected a beautifully iced one from the top of the pile. Adrian helped himself to a chocolate sponge cake from the edge, making sure the rest didn't land on the floor.

"So, while you have been out here," Phoenixia perched on the edge of the bench which Tash and Adrian has been relaxing on, "I've discovered something."

The Librarian and the Society Leader sat up, dropping both Tash's legs, and the crumbs from the cakes onto the floor.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I think I've spotted the Stu. He's a sandy haired young man in an indigo suit," Phoenixia reported.

"Has he been spotted by any of the founders yet?" Adrian asked, concern in his voice.

"Not that I am aware."

"Then there's still time!" He jumped to his feet.

"Adrian," Tash looped her arm around his. "What did I say about you relaxing? Rushing in there like hellfire is only going to arouse the attention of the members, the Founders in particular. The last thing we need is to get into a fight with people like Nyarlathotep."

"We will die," Phoenixia mentioned.

"Okay, maybe not him. Point still stands." Tash looked into the violet eyes of her partner.

Adrian sighed deeply.

"Agreed."

"Just a thought," Tash said, suddenly all business. "Didn't Nyarlathotep say something about Runoa sending associates to the Club?"

Phoenixia looked around warily; she hadn't heard the Outer God's words about the Lieutenant Mary Sue.

"Is there a chance that someone is here, spying for her today?" Tash continued.

"It's not a Sovereign," Adrian commented. "We would have recognised them."

"Or them us," Phoenixia interjected.

"Just means that we will have to be even more alert," Adrian muttered. "The sooner we get the Stu the better. Runoa's associate, whoever he, she or they are, will be at least Permitted if not Sanctioned Guests, and we won't be liked if we jump them too."

"Then might I suggest we gather the others for a quick meeting?" Phoenixia prompted.

"Good idea…"

OoO

Her stomach full of delicious food, Louise decided that maybe now was the time for her to assist in the search for the Stu. She had watched Alice and Robert moving around a lot in the atrium, and felt a little guilty at her own inaction.

Looking through the glass panes that made up the Buffet doors, Louise spotted a similar sized room on the opposite side of the Atrium. Picking her way around the milling groups in the main room, she made it to the other room.

She peered inside. It was large, a sort of squashed square shape, with a huge grand piano standing on a raised dais at one end. Various club members were gathered in small groups, discussing all sorts from world domination to _Top Gear_. Louise, more entranced by the samples of music and instruments within, slipped into the room.

The walls were a pale gold, contrasting beautifully with the dark purpleheart wood floor. A collection of alcoves lined the opposite wall, each gathering its own shadow within it. Walking up onto a dais that held the piano, Louise could see that it was expensive. The black wood of the shell highlighted its quality, and the ivories gleamed and reflected against the shiny surface. She ran a hand carefully over the keys, making sure that no sound issued from them.

"Do you play?" a clipped voice asked.

Louise turned, surprised. "Oh, um... no, not really," she answered before she realised what words were coming out of her mouth. Behind her were two individuals – a young gentleman, probably no older than fourteen, and a giant of a man behind him. Both were impeccably dressed, as befitted the club, but Louise was forced to swallow the gasp that was building in her throat as she recognised them.

"Greetings, Artemis," she finally spoke.

"It appears you know me," the young man appeared to study her, "but I do not know you."

Artemis Fowl was a child genius, and an expert in most social situations. She was fully aware that she couldn't lie to him. "My name is Louise. I'm a guest of the Librarian." She gestured to the quill-and-sword saltire charm that hung from her bracelet.

"Ah…" Artemis' eyes took in the gold charm which complemented Louise's red-black dress beautifully. He was dressed in the finest tailor-made suit, its embellishments giving away his Irish nationality.

"No Holly today, Artemis?" Louise asked under her breath, enjoying the reaction that those simple words engendered. The Irish boy's breath caught, and he paused for just too long before replying.

"Many of the Club's members are not to her taste," he explained. "They…scare her a little, not that she'd ever admit it."

Louise merely smiled. She knew very well that Captain Holly Short, one of Artemis' acquaintances from his home fandom, had worked with many an undesirable individual in her time, though the Club was beyond that. Several of the members had done a lot worse than simply cut down a few trees.

"Your first meeting as a guest?" he enquired, to Louise's nods. "Ah yes. It's not really that intimidating. I'm just glad the Founders decided fourteen was adequate enough to attend the evening meetings at last. Oh, I'm sure you know my bodyguard?"

Louise turned to the large gentleman at Artemis' side. "Hello, Butler."

She already knew Butler's role in Artemis' life; also being his tutor and until very recently the closest thing he had to family. The Eurasian man, his suit all black, simply nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing. Work was work, after all, despite being a sanctioned guest.

Artemis caught Louise's attention again. "Are you going to be staying for the announcements tonight?" he asked, changing the topic.

"…Most likely," she replied, wondering what on earth the Thursday Night Risk Club would be announcing.

"The majority of the members have made their opinions clear on the subjects," he continued. "The Founders will have the final say, as always."

Louise nodded, and politely excused herself. She watched as Artemis moved to the next group in the room, chatting cordially to a number of guests; Butler hovering like a fly, always within reach.

From her place by the piano, she could see that majority of the room. There was no sign of anyone who looked out of place; she recognised a great deal of them, and there was certainly no obvious indication of the Stu. A couple of figures lingered in the shadows of the archways, so Louise decided to check them out surreptitiously.

Stepping down from her vantage point, she sidled around the edge of the room, collecting a drink from a passing waiter. Catching snippets of the conversation around her, it was clear that everyone seemed to be discussing the announcements, what they could mean for the club, and for themselves. It seemed the Thursday Night Risk Club was a well-loved bastion of rest and sanity for a lot of these people.

As Louise reached the edge of the alcoves, a dark figure stepped from the shadows. Dressed in a sharp black suit and snakeskin shoes, the gentleman approached the agent as she leaned on the wall. She was watching the room, and hadn't seen him approach until he was less than a metre away.

"Greetings, Mirani," the man hissed in her ear.

Louise almost jumped out of her skin. Not only had the man caught her unaware but he had addressed her as _Mirani_ – which could only be a bad sign. Her reactions were quick, but not quick enough; Louise's hand was on her waist, desperately searching for the weapon that she hadn't been permitted to bring, but the man's hand landed atop hers, pulling her backwards into the alcove.

"Now now…" he said. "We don't want violence, do we?"

The man wrapped his hand around her wrist, twisting her arm.

Louise winced, too paralysed by fear to even cry out. She was unarmed, and unprotected. Her friends were elsewhere, and she was suddenly uncomfortably aware she was surrounded by potential enemies – or allies? She opened her mouth to scream, but his finger landed on her lips.

"Shh."

"What do you want?" she replied shakily.

"Oh, nothing important," the man whispered. "I am only to deliver a very simple salutation to you…"

Louise didn't relax.

"…Merle sends her regards."

The agent turned towards the man just in time to see his smile, before he released her, turned and retreated nonchalantly into the shadows. "Crowley," she murmured. "Not you too…"

OoOoOoOoO

By now the twenty-odd-strong audience of the Thursday Night Risk Club mission had had enough of Alice's glomp-fest, and with their piles of sticky winnings they changed the feed to show different scenes. Oohs and aahs came as they approved of the surroundings, and excited whispers shot back and forth as people recognised yet more members dressed in what passed for their formal finery.

None of them actually had any idea why the six agents were in this place, and a couple of those whose sides weren't quite aching yet had tried to question why, but in general, few cared. They were having fun watching.

The nibbles scattered about in bags and bowls were enough to fill a small pantry, and the agents had shoved the modular sofa into a vaguely straight line with the odd switchback, all facing the huge screen. Harriet was flicking through the varying feeds into the fandom with a remote control, and occasionally adjusting volume or prodding away (a)'s hearts.

In a large room with a white marble floor, they spotted a trio of well-dressed gentleman conversing closely. Zooming in closer, discussion grew as to who the men were – easy to identify some, difficult in others – and what roles they played here, as it was obvious that the other members gave them a respectful berth.

The man in black and red was just finishing speaking. "…because as Founders, we have an example to make…and set."

"True, true. When should we call it?" said another, with bronze skin and blue embellishments.

"Soon. Let them show themselves first," said a third, with a sinister politician's voice.

"Very well," said a fourth man on approach, who was all in green and gold.

Lil' C gave a small squeak and crept around to hide behind Stephen, who was sat cross-legged on the navy carpet. Stephen tried to twist around, but only saw the small green tentacles disappear beneath the folds of his over-long T-shirt.

"What's up, C?" he said, almost toppling onto one side.

Lil' C only squeaked in response.

The three other men didn't react in any way other than to acknowledge him. The group nodded and split up, sauntering in different directions.

"Could it be, uh, that?" said Tom, pointing at the screen and the unnerving green-suited gentleman who was sashaying his way through parting crowds. Harriet zoomed in.

"Who is he?"

Lil' C chirruped angrily, but then hid again.

Just to compound the unsettling moment, Nyarlathotep turned and appeared to look straight at 'camera' – gazing directly into the room as if he knew he was being watched; those unearthly green-and-gold eyes roved the room, settling briefly once on everyone watching…

The only sound from the lounge was a single crunch of popcorn as the Outer God gave a fiendish, knowing grin, then turned away to be social again.

"…Er?"

"That's enough of Mr. Spooky…" said Harriet, slightly spooked herself, switching views with the remote control. Nyarlathotep's shark smile remained burned into the screen for a couple of seconds.

The new view onto this strange but fun party came via a camera already existing in the fandom. It seemed to be perched in a room with white floors, purple seats and glass walls looking out onto a broadleaf forest and a lake beach, all bathed in the warm blue night. Many members took up the violet sofas, their drinks kept full by one of those strange dutiful butler-things.

The view seemed to come from a place high in the room. As the agents watched, there was a chirp, a scuffle and the camera 'hopped' laterally around on the ledge on which it was perched, giving them a better view.

Unfortunately the movement caught the attention of a blue-haired man, dressed in black, grey and white.

"That's a Cyrus," said Michael, his mouth half-full. "Where's this camera? On a Pokémon?"

It seemed so too, as there were several indignant squeaks from behind the camera, and Cyrus gave a smirk and pulled out a Poké Ball.

Nobody could miss several members behind him roll their eyes and turn away. They heard one mutter "Fight your own battles, why don't you…" in a very English accent.

Suddenly there was a flash of white – he hadn't thrown the spherical trap yet – and a ball-shaped attack feathered by seven silver strings blew towards Cyrus, again from behind camera. It hit him full on the chest and toppled him backwards into a butler.

There was laughter at the display, but Kyle recognised the move. "Okay, that was Weather Ball."

Gareth agreed. "Normal-type, but still…"

Karissa turned her head so an ear was closer to the speaker. "There's Pokémon-speak…it's not coming through well…"

Harriet turned it up, and they heard an angry tirade of 'Casts' and 'Forms'.

"Asuka, translation please?" asked Dave.

The Luxray listened for a moment before she spoke, the translation emerging in English from her collar. "I know who you are, I know what you've done; you're a miserable old bastard who…" and here she paused, blinking in shock. "…who can't get laid to save his life! I pity your Pokémon and wish you could bugger off and drown somewhere!"

Tom nodded. "A fine sentiment!"

Cyrus, however, was anything but amused, and pulling himself to his feet, he hurled the ball with incredible aim. "Very well Castform…it's time for you to shut up."

The thrown Pokéball hovered menacingly over Castform's head, opening and casting a red field around her, preparing to pull her into the trap – but it lasted a second before the white shield that marked an already-caught Pokémon expanded around her, dissipating the red capturing energy and repelling the ball. It shot into the air and back down into the room, and there was a small scramble to get out of its way. It missed Cyrus by a hair, instead hitting Q in the back of the head.

"Cast form," hissed Castform angrily. Asuka didn't translate that one.

Q, in a red and black Starfleet dress uniform, turned around with a scowl on his face. "Do you _mind_?" he asked Cyrus sardonically.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "I almost caught a Q. Now that would be a Pokémon worth bragging about…"

"You wish, little man!"

The spectators in the Mod Sofa Lounge watched the argument rage in the conservatory – at least until Lord Vetinari quietly cleared his throat. Then they stopped.

Castform hopped along the ledge into the opposite corner, and found a short passageway that led to the next room. She had not yet found anything suspicious, judging by the fact that none of her group had taken any action. So she determined to continue her observations.

OoOoOoOoO

_To be concluded in…_

_Chapter Three: Exfiltration_


End file.
